Twinning: Brooklyn
by ByteOfBacon
Summary: Ariete and Raphtalia have been helped by someone unknown, and find themselves in a new country called "America". To be honest, I wrote half of this drunk at 12 am on a Monday night. Spinoff of my other fic, Twinning.


**As a note of warning: this is set in 1940s Brooklyn, so expect slurs, racism, violent language and actions and etc.**

**I'm not going to update this too often, but count this as a side spinoff to twinning. Crack-tastic fun. You don't need to have read Twinning to read this, but it might make Ariete make more sense.**

**Oh, and even though this is a Shield Hero fic, Naofumi's not going to be here. At least in the beginning.**

I sat in the cage, my vision blurred by the near eternal darkness we were in. Raphtalia's form was barely visible. I mustered a bit if mana from my core, a flame popping out from my finger.

She huddled closer, appreciating the warmth.

It lasted maybe three minutes before my stomach growled with the intensity of a wolf, and the trickle of mana I had disappeared.

"Sorry, Raphtalia. I'm all out." I said, relaxing against the bars of the cage.

She shook her head. "The little you make is good enough."

I heard footsteps.

"Raphtalia. Head down."

I heard the footsteps stopping as they neared our cage. After the rustling of a sack, I saw two small pouches placed in front of the thin cloth shroud of the cage's cover. Then, a faint voice spoke.

"I can't afford to take you in, but these devices will let you escape. Use them quickly, they're not exactly undetectable."

The person then hurriedly stepped away. I didn't get a glimpse of his face, but as I peeked from around the shroud, I saw a slim male figure duck around the corner. I heard the murmurs of a conversation, and then the swoosh of the slaver's tent closing its curtains.

Then, I heard the rapid clacks of the slaver's shoes. I swiped the pouches, then placed them against the wall behind us.

The slaver passed us, and went away. Raphtalia lifted her head, curious to what was in the pouches. I took one and opened it.

Inside I found a tiny waterskin, a few pieces of hardtack and a brass bracelet with a red gem. The other pouch was the same. I uncapped the waterskin to take a look. Completely clear. The hard tack had a floury smell, no foulness from it.

I gave the other pouch to Raphtalia. At the same time we devoured the crackers, and despite their texture and flavor similar to chips of wood, they were delicious compared to the greyish, raw animal slop we were given once every two weeks.

The water was the same, clear and refreshing. It was cool and ran down my throat, with no taste of dirt or disease in it.

As I finished all the water in the waterskin, I noticed that there was a hole in the pouch. I looked over to the place I put the pouches and found a wooden handle, its tool end covered in a leather sheath. I soon realized it was a knife. It was very short, no longer than my hand. Still, it was dangerous. I slid it under the tattered rags I had as clothing.

As Raphtalia was finishing her water, I went to examining the bracelet. I probed it quickly with the new mana I'd gained from eating. It latched on, and the gem held a faint glow. I turned it over, and read the inscription on the bottom if the strap.

"Chant 'Open' to find yourself somewhere new."

I snapped the band of the bracelet into place, then held out my hand to the side of the cage. "Open."

A portal sprung to life, purple energy surrounding the window. I looked through and saw dilapidated wooden siding, and a clothesline.

I didn't hesitate in climbing through. Raphtalia took a second, but my offered hand made her jump through.

I realised at a glance we weren't in Melromarc anymore. Or even the same world. The houses were pristine white, and had glass windows. The doors had shiny metal handles, and there were strange machines.

I picked up a piece of paper on the ground. I couldn't read the letters, but I saw the picture. A young man laid on a muddy field, bloody holes riddling his chest. He was being dragged by others in what looked to be a military uniform.

I snatched two outfits from the clothesline and pulled Raphtalia behind a house.

"I think we're in a different world now, Raphtalia. Like the heroes."

"The heroes?" She asked.

"Those four heroes."

Her eyes widened, then she nodded in understanding. I gave her one set of clothes and we slid them on. I wore a sundress beneath a black coat. Raphtalia wore a pleated blue skirt, a white t-shirt and a crimson jacket over it. The extra layer would protect us from the chilly breeze I felt.

I peeked around the corner, then motioned for Raphtalia to follow. I looked and found a hand pumped well in front of the house. I used it to clean mine and Raphtalia's face.

We walked along a hard white path next to the black one with markings on it.

I jumped as I heard a whistle from a house behind us. I turned my head and saw a regular human there. He looked middle-aged, with a thick beard.

"You two young girls are are looking quite fine!"

I could understand him fine. I looked at the bracelet on my hand. It was drawing tiny amounts of mana. Translating, like the legend said.

"Thank you, sir!" I said back.

Wait. He didn't care about our tails?

I hadn't seen any demihumans at all. Did he just not notice? No, he must have since our backs, and tails were turned towards him.

They must not be able to see our demi human appendages.

I grasped Raphtalia's hand, and pulled her down a corner and then across a bridge. I secluded us in the space between two brick buildings, one of which was boarded up.

"I don't think they can see our tails or ears, Raphtalia."

"I thought so." Raphtalia said. "We need to find a place to stay."

"Well, why not this building here?"

I pointed to the boarded up building behind us.

"It seems sturdy enough."

"Ariete, It's probably abandoned and run down. We don't know how this world works and don't have people who summoned us to explain that."

"We can figure it out." I assured her.

My ears picked up the clicking of shoes. I turned to where we came in.

A dark skinned man in front of us was glaring, his hand in his pocket holding something. I heard another person behind us.

"Hey there, baby-doll. Why don't you two white girls cough up any dough ya got, huh?"

He approached closer. "Do you need me to repeat myself?"

Raphtalia clung to my arm. I backed up to the middle of the alley. The man seemed to take that as weakness and came up no more than a foot away from us, his figure now blocking out the afternoon sun.

"I said to cough up the cash, punks."

He pulled a blade from his jacket. I backed up further, a few feet from the end of the alley. I saw in a puddle another person with a black hood holding another blade behind us.

"Sorry sir, but we don't have any money." I said. I discreetly passed the knife to Raphtalia. I tapped my back pocket and she placed it there.

"Well, if you two white dollies don't got cash, your bodies will do quite well."

He approached us. I readied my knife for a fight. Then, I heard the crack of glass. The man in front of us collapsed, and another one stood behind him, the shattered end of a bottle in his hand. The person behind us rushed forwards.

I swung Raphtalia behind me. I stuck my foot out to trip the person and then buried my knife into their thigh. They yelped out in pain.

I looked at the new man. He had an amused look on his face.

"Usually you whites run at the sight of a negro." He said. He dropped the bottle.

"Huh?" I said.

"What, a white girl ain't scared of us? And I thought I'd seen everything."

He walked up to us. I ripped the knife from my victim's leg.

The man held up his hands and took a step back.

"Whoa there missy. I ain't gonna hurt you, okay?"

After a second, I lowered my knife.

"Why'd ya help us if ya think pale skinned people hate you all?" I asked.

"Cause this nigga has been causing me trouble, and threatning you two be the last straw."

He kicked the man who he'd whacked. "By the way, the name's Gavin."

I looked at the man. His eyes told me he was like me. Mistreated.

I looked behind me at Raphtalia. She was trembling, but she seemed more scared of the two on the ground than Gavin.

"Ariete. This is my sister, Raphtalia."

"Y'alls parents had strange naming sense. Are ya Irish?"

I decided to go along with it and nodded.

"Well, then welcome to Brooklyn, girls."

-xXx-

I came up with the story that we had run away from home because our father died in a war and our mother couldn't handle keeping us happy and herself sane.

Gavin accepted it immediately without question. He led us through the brick buildings. I saw only dark skinned people like Gavin. Some were like him, seemingly friendly and helpful. Others looked on in hatred or confusion.

One guy ran up to Gavin. He was a little shorter, and looked younger.

"Cuz, what you doin by bringing two white dollies 'round here?"

The boy who spoke up was maybe 16 or 17, wearing a stained tanktop and blue pants.

"They're runaways. Smashed Doyle for tryin' to mug em." Gavin said

"And why'd they stick to ya like glue?"

"Runaways."

The boy looked at us hard, then pulled Gavin in close. The whispers were probably meant so we couldn't hear, but my ears picked the words up.

"We can't take in some random white kids unless we want the fuzz breathing down our backs. They ain't gonna be able to handle themselves here on the streets."

I scowled, but decided not to show my hand just yet.

"They seem tougher than ya think, and the little missy in red knows her way 'round a blade." Gavin said.

"They look no older than 9, Gavin."

"If we ain't taking them in, you know no one else is. Besides, no girl who just stabbed a man is gonna rat on us. Rodney, just trust me."

The man he'd called Rodney glanced at us. I raised an eyebrow at his gaze. He was a good guy and he was a good pushed past Gavin and stepped towards me.

"The name's Rodney." He held out his hand and I shook it.

"I ain't ever seen one of y'all so ready to touch one of us, y'know."

"I don't care what you are, just who you are."

"Well, I'm the head around here. Ya got problems, ya come to me. Gavin's my right hand man. We ain't like y'all irish folk or the italians in the other parts of the city."

"Oh, and how do they do things?"

"The mob practically control half of Manhattan, and they run their gangs like it was a bank."

Crime done like a business? Interesting. Not that I'd get into that sort of thing…

"Well, let us hook y'all up with a crib and get you two settled in. Gavin will teach ya the rules after,"

Starting there, we began our life in a new world, in a new country. Brooklyn, borough of New York City in the United States of America.

**Honestly, this is neither a one shot or a long fic. Crackfic is the best term i can come up with, but that implies I wrote a low effort shitpost and what this is, is a medium to high effort shitpost.**

**As for why, well why not?**

**And Chapter 8 is coming soon. Eventually.**


End file.
